


Regret

by orphan_account



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Drabble, Episode Ignis DLC, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Mild Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-29 18:11:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17208386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: In the wake of the Tidemother's wrath on Altissia, Ignis speaks with Noctis alone.





	Regret

 “Plain and simple - tell me how you’re feeling now.”

 Noctis’s head is low, his expression solemn and quiet. “Like I’ve failed my most important job… How do I go on living life as a failure?”

 Ignis tries to take a step toward where he assumes the bed is, but miscalculates and stubs his shoe on the leg of the armchair. He groans softly. “Uhn…” A deep breath. Composure. “You are not. A failure.”

 “But you saw what happened back there, didn’t you? I couldn’t reach her, and now…” His sobs are louder in Ignis’s ears than they ever were before in his life. “...I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do.”

 “But you do, Noct,” Ignis says, finding his way over to where Noctis was on the bed by touching and groping the fancy furniture in the room. “What does your heart tell you?”

 When he finally looks up into his advisor’s face, he’s horrified. Blue eyes stare in disbelief, mouth agape in shock. “You… You’re hurt! Ignis, why didn’t you say something?”

 “Minor battle wounds are nothing to concern yourself with. They are a small price to pay for the greater good.”

 Noctis gets up on his knees and carefully holds Ignis’s horribly scarred face in his hands, shaky with worry. “But you… you can’t see, can you?”

 Ignis’s brows furrow. He’s never had his patience tested so rigorously before. “I have faith my sight shall be restored to me, Noct. You are my main concern as of now. Does that still not appease your distress over my condition?”

 “No, it… it does,” Noctis concedes softly, settling back down onto the bed. “I just… I know what I have to do, I just don’t know if I can do it.”

 Ignis nods and makes a sound that lets his charge know he’s not going to become emotional this time. “Do you feel you have enough energy to make the journey for Cartanica?”

 “Do we have to go now?” Noctis whines without much of a fight, but it’s wearing on Ignis’s already frayed nerves.

 Ignis halts his hand before it makes contact with Noctis’s shoulder, hesitantly gripping, then he lets it fall back to his side. “The decision is yours. We have lost so much already, and I cannot gauge how the others feel on the matter, but you are king, Noct.”

 Noctis looks up at him.

 “You may lead the way forward unto uncertainty, or follow your own path. The choice is yours, and yours alone. Know that none of us will hold you in contempt, whatever you do decide to do.”

 Noctis wipes his eyes with his bare arm. “I know you mean that kindly, but it doesn't feel that way.”

 “I'm… sorry,” Ignis sighs sadly, testing his path to the door with his new wooden partner. “I can’t promise to contain my feelings right now.”

 “I don’t ask you to,” Noctis says, eyes narrowed. “Damn… It’s hard to know how to say anything.”

 Then Ignis's cane catches on the chair leg and he trips and falls on his hands. Noctis almost gets up and runs over to help his friend, but strangely, he feels like he doesn’t owe anyone anything from himself. 

 Not even a hand.

 A couple shaky breaths later, Ignis is back on his feet, rubbing his hurting shoulder that had banged into the back of the chair. “It’s alright,” he says as though he were answering a demanded question. “In your defense, Noctis, I shall never regret my place at your side. Though it pains me to say it, as I hope and pray it were not our future, I would remain with you until my dying breath.”

 Noctis sighs hard as Ignis departs. “Why do you have to say stupid things like that? I never asked you to die for me.”

 Ignis Scientia closes the door behind him with the utmost gentiality. A mere few hours ago, their fate was his choice. His choice. Why had he let it slip through his fingers?

 Like the chill wind that steals away the last breath of a summer flower, he feels the sting of regret hit him so hard it almost brings him to his knees.

 That vision of his king, of Noctis with a sword thrust through his chest, flashes once more before his unseeing eyes.

 And he cries.


End file.
